


What’s Your Poison?

by Atqh16



Series: He's not heavy, He's my brother [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Big Brothers, Dick is a good big brother, He just wants his brother, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Older Brothers, Siblings, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim need's a hug, batfam, tim is in pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 03:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14011632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atqh16/pseuds/Atqh16
Summary: Tim is on fire. He has no idea if the drug coursing through his veins is dangerous. He can’t even tell where he is. But he’s alone, incapacitated and he might even be dying but god. He just wants his brother.





	What’s Your Poison?

When he was a child being looked after the family nanny, he’d once swung himself on a rope he found tied to a tree in the yard. He can’t have been more than 7 years old but he had thrown himself on the rope like his life depended on it. Fingers curled tight around the rough cord. Laughing at the top of his lungs with every sway and jerk until his fingers slipped and he found himself tossed through the air like a rag doll. When he finally opened his eyes again he could only stared at the wispy clouds above him in shock. Before the pain set in and the blood he see’s dripping on his hand when he’d reached up in reflex makes him scream.

And he screamed and screamed till the nanny found him still lying on the ground covered in dirt and blood.

He doesn’t really remember what happened next. Most of it was a flurry of panic. Of rushing from one place to the other and him curling up in a hospital bed, sniffling because he wished his mother was there to hug him and make the pain in his throbbing head and the shadows at the corners of the room go away.

What he does remember is seeing his parents come home a month later, run their fingers through his hair before promptly sending him away with the nanny to play with the new toys they’d bought. He doesn’t think they ever found out. He doesn’t think they ever even asked. And time made the scar just below his hairline fade eventually but sometimes Tim wakes up in the morning and lies in bed longer than he should, trying to forget how it felt to have fear claw up his throat. Shuddering at how if he tries hard enough he can still feel the trail of damp, sticky blood pooling by his forehead and how time had felt like water running through his fingers no matter how hard he tightened them together.

It’s the same feeling he has now. Hunched on the ground, one hand on his stomach and the other desperately trying to keep himself from buckling against the dirty floor of the warehouse. An empty syringe merely a few feet away from when he'd pulled it out of his arm. The same fear claws up his throat but this time it tastes like bile and he’s never realized how much noise a human could make through gritted teeth till right then and there.

The fire is new though. The heat under his skin is palpable and he’d think it was real if he hadn’t suddenly felt cold hands turn him on to his back and tear at his suit.

Cold air meets his chest where the seams are torn and the contrast from what it had felt like before is almost enough to muffle the twinge of panic in his throat that chokes out when he feels the same hand pull at his cowl.

He reaches up to stop it. His response automatic even through the haze. But something catches his palm. Longer fingers gently intertwining themselves between his and pushing them away to allow a cool breeze brush against his face. Something cold clamped around his now naked eyes, pressing his head back to lean against the ridge of a collarbone even as he greedily breathes in deep breaths. But it’s not till he hears the familiar, smooth voice whispering comforts in his ear that he finally stops fighting back.

“Hey, it’s ok. It’s ok I’ve got you. I’ve got you”

Tim is too relived to feel embarrassed at the sob he gives in response. The fire has dulled but the burn of it is still so intense where his suit clings to his skin.

“It hurts” Tim whimpers, “Di…Nightwing, it hurts.”

“I know. I know little brother. I’m so sorry. Just listen to my voice ok. Just listen to my voice. I’m here. I’m here……..”

Dick doesn’t stop murmuring in his ear. After a while Tim stops recognizing the words but he still focuses on the soothing cadence in every one and how it pushes back the terror he had been able to taste on his tongue just moments before.

He doesn’t know how much time passes. He tries not to imagine how easy it would be for a stray thug to overpower them both. How Dick is practically defenseless. His body curled protectively around Tim’s. Heavy legs pinning his to the floor with one cold hand being the only thing that kept his face hidden while the other rubbed smooth circles on his chest.

Instead he just wants to cry. He wants to sag into the embrace Dick has him in and he wants to be comforted by the care he’s never really felt before any of this.

So he does. Nestled in an exhausted heap that only makes Dick pull him in and tighten his hold until finally, his breathing ceases its harsh rasp and his eyes close as the veil of unconsciousness finally takes him.

 

 


End file.
